


risen, tangled together

by neonheartbeat



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Beating, Bisexual Kylo Ren, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Consensual Kink, Cuckolding, Degradation, F/M, Face-Sitting, Forced Orgasm, Gags, Gangbang, Genital Torture, Inappropriate Use of the Force, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, No Pregnancy, Orgasm Denial, Other, Riding Crops, Shibari, Spanking, Threesome - M/M/M, Touch-Starved Kylo Ren, Vibrators, Voyeurism, Whipping, consensual drug use, sex work mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:14:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27431101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neonheartbeat/pseuds/neonheartbeat
Summary: Kylo wants something from Rey, and Rey wants something from Kylo, but first she has a request he has to fulfill.~Completely self indulgent gangbang orgy porn. You've been warned.
Relationships: Knights of Ren & Kylo Ren, Knights of Ren & Rey, Knights of Ren/Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 46
Kudos: 169





	risen, tangled together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheWitchChugsHerCoffee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWitchChugsHerCoffee/gifts).



> IF I MISSED A TAG PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!! THERE'S A LOT GOING ON HERE I'M SO SORRY.

Nine weeks have passed since Rey reached out and took Kylo Ren’s hand on the burning, spark-rain bridge of the Supremacy. Eight weeks since a tentative peace treaty with the Republic (and the Resistance, by extension) has been signed, seven since the Knights of Ren joined them on the newly-launched  _ Specter. _

Nine weeks have passed since she took his hand. 

They hadn’t touched each other since. 

Rey switched off her training blade and wiped sweat from her forehead in the training arena on the  _ Specter _ . It’s a huge, state of the art facility with dummies for practicing hand-to-hand combat, a running track, a boxing ring, a mixed-levels area for full-body exercises. Weights. Ropes. Things she doesn’t know the purpose of and hasn’t asked about yet. 

_ Just like me.  _

She’d thought maybe a diplomatic position… but no, that was not to be: she had no patience for politics, and a scavenger from Jakku wasn’t exactly the best choice anyone could find when looking for a diplomat. General Hux had suggested with some acerbic attempt at humor that she be kept in the brig as a pet, and Kylo had immediately reassigned and demoted him to be a training instructor at some school on a planet called Arkanis. 

No, she wasn’t going to be a pet: Kylo had made that very clear. 

“Your new clothes,” he’d said by way of explanation, dropping a case off in the quarters she’d been given. The case had contained, among various articles she’d go through later, a leather, high-necked coat of oxblood red Sullust leather, smooth and buttery to the touch, stitched down in fine lines that put her in mind of… something flayed. Muscle, exposed— even as it covered her from wrist to throat to ankle, close-fitting. 

_ It’s not my color, _ she might have said, if she’d been bolder. But it was beautiful, in a macabre way, and it was a gift. So she thanked him and kept it, and he’d watched her face for a moment before leaving.

She crossed to the dummies and picked up her practice staff, giving one of them a few solid whacks.  _ Kylo Ren, Supreme Commander of the First Order.  _ The title sounded all wrong in her head and on her lips: officially he was referred to as “Commander Ren” now, and she hadn’t tried to actually address him at all since the treaty. Leia had looked visibly… something, over the holo-call where they’d gone over the terms— at being told her son’s correct form of address was  _ Commander.  _

Maybe she’d just wanted to call him Ben. Like Rey did, sometimes. Maybe—

“Rey.”

She turned on a credit and dropped her staff. Looming in the doorway in black stood the Commander of the First Order, hands clasped in front of him, heavy cloak hanging just above the shining floor. He looked tired, more tired than he had the last time she’d seen him— probably about the time he’d given her new clothes, actually. She rarely actually saw him much anymore, what with his new responsibilities consuming him. Dark circles ringed his red-rimmed eyes, and his lips looked pale, his stubble a dark shadow on his jawline and chin.  _ Ben, _ she almost said, and caught herself. “Commander.”

“Don’t call me that,” he said, toneless and soft. 

“Oh. All right. What should I—”

“My  _ name _ ,” said Kylo, half between his teeth. “My—” With a sharp little sound of disgust, he turned away for a moment. “Nothing. There’s a delegation from the Resistance scheduled to come aboard in two hours. Get changed. I want you present.”

“Conference room?” she asked, immediately crossing to put her staff away in the rack.

“Throne room.”

She’d never seen the throne room before. It was new, supposedly, but… “Where do you want me to be?” General Yu, who was one of Kylo’s new advisers, said that the positions of where someone stood or sat or faced during meetings sent messages, but she wasn’t sure how that worked yet. She knew Kylo had a penchant for unspoken messages, though: he always positioned himself above people during meetings and rarely ever sat down, which was supposed to be intimidating.

“You’ll know when you arrive. Don’t be late.” 

* * *

There were two seats in the throne room when Rey arrived, freshly showered and dressed in her red coat. Both identical in size and shape, both simply designed: rounded backs, an electrum chasing down the front, padded lightly in pitch-black Corellian leather. Gone was the enormous obsidian monolith that Snoke had sat in: these were smaller, human-sized, made for beauty as well as power.

She sat in the one on the right, hoping that was the correct choice. The silk in her undergown rustled when she sat. Three of the Knights of Ren were already waiting, flanking the room, and the other three came in with Kylo a moment later.

He paused in his step, seeing her on the throne, and his right hand clenched into a fist before he resumed walking, stepping up deliberately and settling into the seat on her left. “This meeting is in regards to the enlisted training camps the Order set up galaxy-wide. Your friend FN-2187 will be joining us.”

“Finn’s coming?” asked Rey, surprised and pleased. “Who else?”

“General Organa. And Dameron.” She couldn’t be sure, but she thought there was a bitter tinge to his words as he spoke the name of the pilot. “A few aides, likely. Perhaps a Senator or two.”

“I’m dressed right, right?” she asked, looking down at herself and suddenly doubting her choice.

“Yes. You’re dressed exactly right.” His eyes tracked down her from head to ankle. “And I trust you’d tell me if I wasn’t, too.”

She gave him a critical once-over as the Knights took their places. They’d ceased to be frightening to her a while ago, and now just seemed like… set decoration. He was dressed in a new black surcoat, without any quilting or pleats— it hit him just at the knees, and was tied at the waist with a belt similar to her own. The only glimpse of color was the dark red lining, visible when he sat or lifted his knees: identical in color to her own coat. “You look fine,” she said, and then noted that the collar of his coat was folded in toward his throat awkwardly. “Wait, here.” Without thinking, she reached up and worked her finger between the cloth and his warm skin, pulling the fold out, and Kylo froze, just… sitting there and looking at her as she fixed his collar and sat back. “There. All better.”

“Good,” he said, his voice cracking a little. He coughed. “Good,” he repeated, and thumbed his comlink. “Send them in.”

* * *

So… she hadn’t  _ really _ been expecting Finn’s utter look of betrayal or Poe’s look of disdain. That was fine: she was adaptable, and after her welcoming smiles had fallen on unreceptive ground, she’d just sat there awkwardly while Leia went over options for closing down or moving the training grounds and Finn talked very hotly about his own experiences and Poe gave everyone a sullen glare that Rey felt like she  _ probably  _ deserved to be on the receiving end of. Leia just gave her small, unreadable expressions, but she didn’t sense any anger or sadness or hostility from the woman, just… acceptance. Reluctant-flavored, with a side of pity. She didn’t care for that taste.

When they left, Kylo remained where he was, then stood, clasping his hands behind his back. “You did well.”

“I didn’t do  _ anything _ ,” she snapped, feeling wounded. “I’ve barely done a thing— all I did was help with that stupid treaty.”

His eyes flickered, dark and almost unreadable. “That’s not true. Your presence is… calming. Reassuring to my mother, and to the Resistance.”

“I didn’t take your hand to be reassuring,” muttered Rey. “I’ve lost my friends for nothing.”

“Nothing,” Kylo repeated, flat and calm even as the muscle beneath his left eye twitched. Rey realized what she’d implied too late to take it back. “I see.”

“Not— no, I meant—” She groaned and stood up, turning her back on him. “Forget it. Bye. Call me again when you need someone to sit there and be  _ calming. _ ”

“Rey—”

She was already marching to the door, the back of her neck prickling: he could pin her in place with the Force if he wanted to, drag her back to him by the wrists. He did nothing but let her go.

* * *

_ I thought it would be different, _ she mused, alone in her quarters in a bed that was supposed to have gone to some senior officer.  _ I thought he would be Ben again, and that I could turn the war in our favor.  _ But hadn’t that… sort of happened? He wasn’t, strictly speaking, back on the side of the Resistance, but the war was turning: Snoke was dead, and they were making something new— slowly. Very slowly.

She rolled over and tried to shut her eyes, but an odd sensation spread down the back of her neck as her ears popped, the pressure changing a little. Something had shifted, just…

“Rey.”

Sitting straight up, she whirled to see Kylo, standing silently in the middle of her bedroom floor. “What—”

“It’s the bond,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I wasn’t sleeping. Why are we connected? We haven’t been for months. Not since I joined you.” She swung her legs out of bed and sat on the edge, suddenly very aware of the fact that he was still fully dressed and she wore nothing but a nightgown. 

“I don’t know.” He looked awkward, as if he wasn’t sure what to do with his hands or his body. “I was… thinking about you.”

“Oh.” Rey considered that, and decided she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. “I was thinking about you, too.”

Kylo blinked, his mouth twitching. “Oh,” he said. “Then that might be why the Force connected us again after all this time.”

“A little useless, isn’t it, when you’re on the same ship?” Rey drew her knees up and wrapped her blanket around her shoulders, trying to avoid that pensive, unyielding look he was giving her. 

“I’m not on the  _ Specter.  _ I was— my presence was requested at a meeting. Offship. On Chandrila.” He looked suddenly very tired, and she wondered:  _ is he getting enough sleep? _ “I’ll be back in twelve cycles. Hours, I mean.”

“I didn’t know you’d left,” she said. “Am I… I’m not in danger here, am I? Not that I can’t protect myself, but—”

“I took only two Knights. Kuruk and Ap’lek. The others will be with you until I return.”

“You know, I don’t have to be babysat by your knights.”

There wasn’t even a trace of irritation when he replied. “I know you don’t. It makes me feel better about leaving you alone.”

“Huh,” she said, looking down and feeling heat rise from her neck to her forehead. “Well.”

“We can speak about it when I return,” said Kylo, and before she’d had a chance to answer him, he was already gone.

She lay back down.  _ It makes me feel better.  _ He had never once even hinted at his feelings at all, least of all any about her, except to sternly approve of things like her training progress. Somewhere she thought maybe he might think of her as just a student, recalling a snarled, desperate  _ you need a teacher! I can show you the ways of the Force—  _ but other times, she thought, perhaps not. 

_ Don’t think about him: it’ll open the bond back up, _ she thought to herself firmly, but nothing could stop a niggling little tickle at the back of her mind… which spread to a nagging sensation of fullness and aching below her navel, something that wanted touch. She bit her lip and jammed her hand down between her pelvis and the mattress of the bed, but found nothing— well, not  _ nothing, _ but she’d thought she had felt something quite a bit bigger down there.  _ Strange.  _ Though rubbing out a quick climax to fall asleep was part of her nightly ritual, she hadn’t quite felt arousal like that before, and wondered what—

_ Don’t. _

The thought wasn’t hers, but came lurching in from somewhere else. She froze, her hands between her thighs.  _ What? _

_ Rey. Don’t. Just go to sleep.  _

She knew that Force-signature, roiling like an unstable lightning storm, shot through with bursts of clarity, smelling of smoke and ozone.  _ Kylo.  _

_ Yes. Please don’t. _ Shame and confusion poured through the bond.  _ I don’t know how to cut the connection.  _

_ Can you feel me when I…  _ She pressed down, sending a little tingle of sensation through her pelvis and thighs, and the resulting emotional torrent from Kylo tasted of crashing seawater and blood. Iron and salt. 

Lust, black and terrible and deadly. 

_ Stop. _

“But—”

_ I said stop.  _

Rey stopped, sitting on her hands and fighting off the strange arousal that was somehow hers and not hers at the same time. “Fine,” she whispered, forgetting that he couldn’t actually hear her across lightyears.

Something rippled. The Force let her go, untying her from Kylo, and she relaxed, alone at last and unsettled by her experience.

* * *

“The Commander wishes to see you in his quarters,” said Kuruk, his voice distorted by the vocoder in his helmet as he stopped a moment in the hangar.

“In his— what, right now?” Rey asked, staring at him and then at the black-clothed backs walking away from her: Kylo and Ap’lek. The clothes he’d had sent to her from Chandrilia the day before were a pale cloud-gray, nowhere close to black: in a similar drape to her old wraps and belted at the waist, and full-skirted to the ankle. She’d worn them to greet him in, but he’d barely even noticed— or had he? “I thought he was going to debrief.”

“Yes. I’m to escort you to his quarters while he does.” Kuruk Ren was a tall man with a helmet that looked like it ruined his peripheral vision completely. “If you object, I can always tell him so.”

“I didn’t say I objected.” She wrinkled her nose at him, and a soft sound escaped the vocoder: he was chuckling at her. “You think you’re so funny. What’s he want me for?”

“They must not have taught you anything on Jakku,” he said as they walked to the turbolifts. “Why else would a man want a woman brought to his bedroom?”

_ What? _

_ Oh.  _

She felt her belly coil and twist. “N-no, I mean, I meant— we don’t, it isn’t like that between us. Is it?”  _ He gave me so many things, the clothes and the quarters and food every day. Surely—  _

“Why are you asking me? Shouldn’t you know?”

“You were with him the whole time; surely you know more about his opinions than I do.”

“You’re bonded to him through the Force, and you think I have some insight into the Commander’s intentions?” Even the mask couldn’t erase the humor from his voice.

“You’re teasing me. Kuruk, just tell me, please—”

One huge shoulder lifted and fell. “He was moody. Mentioned bad timing, something about a Force-bond. Swept around with a long sour face. Asked Ap’lek whether it was possible for someone half untrained to lie using the Force, but when has anyone ever believed a word Ap’lek says?”

Horror struck Rey. “Oh, R’iia’s  _ tits _ . No, he thought I was lying to him?”

“I guess. Ap’lek thought maybe you were saying you wanted to go back to the Resistance to him in private and he was trying to convince you not to go.”

“I did  _ not. _ I— if you must know, he just, um, we— connected during an awkward time for both of us and there were weird, um, feelings being crossed and switched and I’m not sure what was me and what was him, so he must be just as confused as I am.”

“Mm,” said Kuruk as the lift took them up to Kylo’s quarters. He tapped in the code and the doors opened. “Well. Good luck.”

“Wait, Kuruk, what do I do if he, if he wants—”

The Knight snorted. “Why are you asking me? Tell him. I doubt he’ll be that bold if he does, though.”

“Why?”

“He’s not exactly... the demanding type.”

_ What? _ He was Kylo Ren, the most feared man in the galaxy, the Commander of the First Order, and Kuruk didn’t think he was  _ demanding? _

But she was at the door, she was going in, her belly felt as heavy as lead in her gut as Kuruk checked the room and headed for the door. The suite Kylo lived in was enormous: electrum fixtures, black leather seating, gleaming floors. She was afraid to look for the bed.

“What type is he, then?” she asked weakly as he started to open the lock and head out. 

Kuruk looked back at her silently, but didn’t answer as he left her alone.

* * *

Kylo lumbered in about half an hour later, the door hissing shut behind him. Rey had already explored the whole suite: he had a dining room, a sitting area for receiving visitors, and a bedroom with an attached fresher and shower unit down a short hall, and it seemed like everything was done in shades of austere gray, black, or white. Boring, not very personal, but he’d only lived in it for a few weeks. She was sitting on his couch reading a datapad when he came in, and looked up as he shucked off his gloves at the door, tossing them onto the floor to be grabbed up by laundry droids. “I hope your mission on Chandrila went well.”

He visibly swallowed, his pale throat moving as his eyes flickered over her. “Yes. You got my gift.”

“I… yes.” She looked down at herself and recalled the Holonet article she’d just been reading about “How To Make Sure They Know You Appreciate Them”. “I like it. The color, I mean.”  _ Flatter your partner! _ said the article cheerfully in her memory. “And it’s comfortable. You, ah, obviously know what I like.”

Color rose high on his cheeks. “Ah. I— I’m glad you like it.”

She didn’t know what to say after that, and just looked off to the side for a moment as he seemingly gathered his courage. The awkward tension was unbearable. “Kylo—”

“Please don’t say anything about that night,” he said quickly, crossing the floor to right by the couch and crouching down; putting himself below her. Rey was reminded of their first meeting, the interrogation room: he had tried to speak without words and tell her he wasn’t a threat then, and now… “Don’t—”

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry. You didn’t like it.”

“I—” He passed a hand over his eyes. “That’s not… exactly right. No. I did like it. I didn’t want you exposed to me like that. We don’t have to speak about it.”

“But I want to,” she said plaintively. “Kylo, we barely ever speak and now the bond is back, and— Kuruk said you weren’t demanding, or wouldn’t be, but I don’t know what he meant.”

“Kuruk should deactivate his vocoder,” said Kylo, looking suddenly murderous. 

“Well, he thought you were bringing me here to, to— you know.” She could barely say it: even bringing it up felt like a taboo. Like he wasn’t quite human, something Other, something half-wild and sexless. His eyes went dark for a moment and he shut his eyes, his nose flaring out as he exhaled: she could sense the Force coiling around him, his attempt at centering some unstable emotion she couldn’t put a finger on. “So. Did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Bring me here to, you know, to have sex with me.”

He dragged a bare hand down his inscrutable face. “What if I did?” he asked, suddenly focused with laserlike intensity on her, where she sat. “What if I picked you up and took you to the bedroom right now, and— and did that to you?”

She blinked. “First of all, you wouldn’t do it  _ to _ me, you’d do it  _ with _ me.”

“I— I know that,” Kylo managed, the color on his face blooming brighter. “Of course I know that.”

Not even the Force could hide his blatant nervous posturing. “Kylo… have you never had sex with anyone before?”

Immediately, his face shuttered into blankness, his fists tightening even as he crouched on the carpet, a furious hulk of black fabric and glossy dark hair. “Yes. Of course I have.”

“With who?”

“Why are you asking me with who— who have  _ you _ had sex with, if it’s that important to—”

“It’s  _ not, _ I’m just curious, and if you have to know then I had a couple of short liaisons on Jakku with some moisture traders, ah, a couple of years ago—”

“Two  _ years _ ago? When you were seventeen? That’s a crime in half the civilized galaxy, Rey—”

“Oh, great, then go on and tell the new Senate that, I’m sure they’ll be quick to go break up the other half for not following their laws. People still need to survive out in the Outer Rim, you know, and—”

“Wait, survive? You had to— for what, for water?”

“It was recycled cooling, first of all, and so  _ what _ if I did—”

“Recycled—” He cut himself off and lunged for her, and Rey fought to not kick him out of instinct, but he wasn’t fighting her, or trying to hurt her— he just put both of his arms on either side of her body, on the couch, and held himself six inches away, and to her shock she saw compassion in his dark, honey-brown eyes as he gazed into her face. Compassion. Like she hadn't _offered_ the guys a quick afternoon. “Did you… was it bad? You were hurt?”

She shook her head, taken aback at his gentleness. “No. They were kind about it. They just… did what they did and gave me two units of liquid after. And one left a little bunch of spinebarrel blossoms.”

“And that’s… all you’ve ever had,” he said softly. It wasn’t a question. “Something transactional.”

What else was there? “What did you have?” she whispered, letting it hang in the six inches between their faces.

“Not transactional,” he said quietly, searching her eyes. “But it wasn’t with a woman.”

She swallowed hard. “How long ago?”

Kylo looked a little cagey. “Ah. About a year and a half ago.”

“Oh.” Rey felt very warm. “So you… you didn’t bring me up here to— because, I thought, you’d given me those clothes and the meals and the quarters, you know, there had to be a catch—”

A torn noise ripped out of his throat and he leaned in, pressing his brow to hers, shaking his head. “No. Rey. I didn’t give you those because I wanted to bribe you into my bed.”

“Right, I see that now,” she breathed, almost cross-eyed from trying to look at him.

“But if you, if you wanted to— I, I would. Take you there. To my bed, I mean.” 

Dizzying, the idea that she could make him take her to bed by just… asking. “I want to kiss you. Just kiss you. Can I—”

“Yes,” he said, and went as stiff as a board, his hands in fists at her sides as her mouth found his, her lips moving over his. Every muscle was as still and hard as stone, and his mouth, while warm and soft, remained firmly closed and dry to the touch, even when she poked a little with her tongue.  _ Oh, this is awful, _ she thought, dismayed as she pulled back.

She’d forgotten the Force: all her emotions and thoughts bled to him, and he turned very pale before looking away and pulling his arms back to his sides. “I… I don’t have a lot of experience with kissing. I’m sorry.” 

“You just need practice,” she told him. “Relax a little, maybe.”

He made a derisive sound and lurched to his feet. “Just, just forget this ever happened. I’ve embarrassed myself enough today. By now every single one of my Knights is going to be whispering and clapping me on the back talking about how I’ve finally taken the last Jedi to bed and—”

“What? They were saying that?”

“They— they’re— yes.” His hands flexed and clenched, enormous and pale. “Well. Two of them were. Cardo and Ushar. But Ushar’s a sadist anyway, likes to make people fight him. Bastard.” He sounded almost affectionate, not disgusted, and Rey cocked her head. 

“R’iia’s arse. If they’re so concerned with who you’re in bed with, why don’t they just bed  _ you? _ ”

Kylo’s reaction was immediate and startling: he drew back, two spots of color flushed on his cheeks, and sucked in a breath. “I— I—”

And Rey  _ knew.  _ “Which one?” she asked, leaning forward slightly. 

“Rey—” The Force was a chaos of terror, despair, anxiety. His face was ashen.

“You can tell me, I won’t be judgmental—”

“T-Trudgen,” he forced out, hands trembling. 

Rey envisioned the Knight in her mind: that skull-like mask, the heavy hood, the huge vibrocleaver. She visualized a ludicrous image of the pair of them, Trudgen and Kylo, coupling in full helmets and black swaths of robes, and fought to not let her face betray her thoughts. “Was he nice? You weren’t hurt?”

Kylo looked like he’d been punched. “No. He… he’s— I mean, only when I ask him to.”

She mulled that over for a minute while he went even redder in the face and sank down into the other couch. “You ask him to hurt you sometimes?”

He nodded tightly, his face drawn. “It’s… cathartic. Pain, I mean. There’s a fine line between the catharsis and actual… disabling pain, which is why I don’t ask Ushar as often as I—” His mouth snapped shut again, shame roiling off him in the Force, and Rey slipped off her seat, inching towards him: this was beyond the most interesting thing she’d heard all day. Kylo must have sensed her emotions, because he looked up as she settled down at his feet, resting her chin on her hands and looking up at him. “You… want to hear me say all this,” he clarified, looking bewildered.

“Yes. So Ushar’s had you too?”

“They’ve all had me,” he said shortly. “At one point or another. And they have each other. We’re a team.”

“Tell me what they’re like,” Rey whispered, entranced by the concept.

Kylo sucked a breath in. “Um. Well. Vicrul can project fear, make you feel emotions— he can sense where someone’s at in their own head and, ah, pinpoint what they need. Cardo’s… really strong. He’s the only one who can physically overpower any of us, but he’s soft at heart, really. Gentle when he wants to be. Ap’lek likes to do— these played out scenarios, you know, where he sneaks up on someone and has their way with them. He’s a master at misdirection, too.”

“And Kuruk?”

“Kuruk likes to be alone. He doesn’t have anyone but me when the mood strikes him, and he’s not really much of a giver.” The corner of Kylo’s mouth quirked in some private joke.

“Yeah, he said you weren’t very demanding.”

“Mm, well, it’s hard to demand things when your mouth is occupied. Bastard.”

Rey stared at Kylo’s mouth: lush, soft lips, almost too plush to be real. She thought about them wrapped around fingers, or other body parts, and almost combusted with arousal. “Oh,” she squeaked, and she was so, so _bad_ at hiding her emotions, because Kylo’s eyes darted right to her, his lips parting as he sensed her body’s drives. “I thought you said you didn’t, you never kissed anybody.”

“I don’t exactly— I’m not attracted like _that_ to the Knights,” he explained, frowning. “Romantically, I mean. Kissing isn’t— I mean, I don’t really—I’m usually not in, ah, in—that position.”

She was even more intrigued. “I’ve never seen any position besides, you know, the one men do with women.”

“There’s a lot of positions men can do with women. You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“There are?” Rey took that in for a moment. “Oh. Um, well. The one I did was where you lie down on your back and the man, you know, gets between your thighs, facing you, with his hands holding him up. Bit uncomfortable.”

Kylo blinked, then drew his hands down his face. “You can’t be serious,” he mumbled. “Rey—look, if you don’t want to come to my bed, pick one of the Knights. Any of them. You deserve to be— you should be satisfied by  _ someone.” _

Heat flooded her cheeks. “I never said I didn’t want to be in yours. And I’m not going to let you just foist me off on one of your Knights.”

The smallest glimmer of hope gleamed in his eyes. “Then you— you’ll let me…”

“Not yet. Wait. Hold on.” Rey slumped down in her seat and thought, hands pressed to her cheeks. “You’re nervous. Why?”

Kylo dropped his head and didn’t look her in the eyes. “Because I’ve never… with a woman before. And not at all. In a long time. I— I stopped after I met you. It felt… different, the way I felt about you. I didn’t just want your body. I wanted your hand. I wanted all of you. And I don’t want it to be bad for you when— if— we go to bed together. I just… I’m out of practice, and I wouldn’t know how to make it… good for you.” His hands were twisting together in a frantic dance, those thick and clumsy fingers unable to stop. 

_ Out of practice.  _ She thought of his bare upper half: so pale from lack of sun he seemed to glow like something phosphorescent. She called to mind those broad arms and that thick chest, the heavy build, the power behind his movements, and thought with a little trepidation,  _ maybe I do want him to have some practice.  _ But who could he possibly practice with, except… 

“The Knights,” she said, barely able to stop herself. “You practice with all of them first, since it’s been so long. And then you can have me.” The pleasure of being able to make demands like that was almost intoxicating, but nothing came close to the look on Kylo’s face when he jerked his head up to meet her eyes. His pupils were dilated, black with want, swallowing all light as the Force spiked high with excitement. 

“Do you want to watch?” he asked huskily.

“Yes,” Rey breathed, barely daring to move. The Force surrounding him swelled like a symphony, metallic and hot and erratic. “If they— if it’s—”

“They won’t care. I won’t either.” He slid off the sofa and knelt at her feet, gazing up at her. “You can have anything you want here, Rey. There’s no more bartering for food or comfort or anything like that. You ask for what you want, and you’ll get it. Do you understand?”

“I— yes.”

“Good.” He stood up and withdrew, centering himself: she could sense the Force soothing him, coming down like a blanket on him. “I’ll arrange everything and send you a message when it’s time.”

_ When it’s time.  _ “All right. I’m looking forward to it.”

“I’m sure,” he said softly, and left the room silently, his gloves forgotten on the floor.

* * *

Two days later, she got a message pinged to her datapad:  _ training room, immediately. all holocams disabled. _

Rey scrambled to her feet, checked her clothes in the mirror to make sure they were straight, and headed down instantly. Nobody stopped her, as per usual: the Commander’s right hand Jedi was a force to be reckoned with, and everyone knew it. 

The training room’s walls were opaque when she arrived at the doors. She took a deep breath, steeled herself for whatever she might see past them, and keyed open the mag-lock, letting herself in and listening to it slap shut behind her.  In front of her was Kylo, fully clothed, kneeling on the floor and flanked by all six Knights.

“H-hello,” she stammered, blushing. She hadn’t meant all at  _ once, _ but now that was an interesting thought: what if…

Kylo got wind of her thoughts and turned, looking up at Vicrul. “Begin. You can go first,” he said in a quiet, toneless voice. 

“Good,” said Vicrul Ren, and tilted his helmeted head to one side, considering as he began to almost… stalk Kylo, who remained kneeling, his chest rising and falling. “You never were very receptive to forced emotions, Commander.”

“Shut up,” said Kylo, half-smiling, a blush on his cheeks as he darted a few looks at Rey. She settled down on her bottom for the show and watched from a short distance: the other five had already melted into the background like ghosts, silent and watching. She could make out some of their thoughts:  _ I better not be last, it’ll be sloppy… then I’ll be last, he’ll be good and used… wonder if she wants us to make him cry… _

“Take your clothes off,” Vicrul said quietly, and waited until Kylo had removed every stitch before opening his own jacket. Rey barely looked at him: Kylo was naked and kneeling and avoiding eye contact with her, blushing so hard it colored his chest, and he was  _ beautiful.  _ Starkly pale skin, constellations of freckles and moles— even the scars couldn’t ruin his body for her. Built like an ion cannon from chest to knee, his body had maintained heavy muscle from training, but was beginning to cling slightly to some extra padding around his waist— after all, he was nearing thirty.  _ Pretty, he’s so pretty.  _ His cock, already as hard as it could get and pointing directly at the wall, was just as pale and heavy as the rest of him, flushed pink at the glistening tip. She’d never seen one in full lighting like this before: she wanted a better look.

Vicrul was squatting and doing something with a length of rope, and Rey squirmed where she sat, her breath coming a little short as he firmly bound Kylo’s forearms to his broad, thick thighs, not tight enough to cut the circulation off, but firm enough to hold him there. He slipped two fingers beneath the cording and grunted to himself, as if satisfied, then stepped back and slipped off his own clothes, leaving on his helmet, his strapped-on sleeves, and letting his pants hang around his knees. “I know why you asked me to go first,” he murmured, and Rey couldn’t breathe for curiosity. “You like getting roughed up fast and hard. If you had it your way, I’d be done with this in three minutes.”

“Yes,” said Kylo, eyes shut tight.

“But this isn’t for you, is it? It’s for her.” Vicrul nodded at Rey, and she fought to not shove a hand between her legs as he pulled out some kind of— oh, some kind of artificial cock, or maybe a sheath of some kind, one where his own cock slid in neatly and the whole thing strapped on around his waist and hips. Kylo shuddered as the buckles snapped shut. “So I think I’ll draw it out. Soften you up a little for the next one. Stars know you haven’t relaxed since you met her. You could use a good fucking.”

“Force,” muttered Kylo, and let Vicrul manhandle him to kneel with his bare ass in the air and his cheek pressed to the ground. His soft dark hair tangled in waves around his eyes and ear, his jaw and neck. 

“And be nice. Or I’ll have to put your mouth to good use. Maybe on Cardo.”

_ Oh, kriff me, _ came a little thought in the Force from the shadowy corner.

“Fine, I’ll be—” Kylo stiffened, mouth open, as Vicrul slicked his hand with lubricant out of a bottle and worked his fingers into his ass. “ _ Ah _ —”

Rey watched, entranced, as a third joined the first two and Kylo let out a long groan that twisted off into a whimper. She wondered… Vicrul’s bare hand seemed somehow more obscene than his bare stomach and hips: the skin was a warm olive-tone, darker than Kylo’s, with well-trimmed nails and thick, strong fingers.  _ How deep could he get his hand? _ The answer seemed to be  _ right up to the palm.  _ Vicrul huffed a little sigh and he must have done something with his fingers, because Kylo let out a sudden sound and twitched, shaking. “You could stand to beg a little,” Vicrul said, sounding almost bored. 

“No,” choked out Kylo, his cheek smashed almost flat into the floor as he trembled. “N— ah,  _ ah—” _

“No? All right. Guess nobody’s touching your cock until you do.”

Kylo let out a grunt of frustration, and Vicrul shifted his weight, notching the tip of the sheath right where his fingers had been. Rey found herself up, circling closer, and Vicrul took no notice of her at all. “Put it in him,” she whispered, her thighs weak. A low moan from Kylo was all it took, and Vicrul was tilting his hips, easing in and in and in, all the way to the hilt. 

“You’re as tight as my fist,” Vicrul said, in a splutter of static from his vocoder that might have been a gasp. “Easy, taking you like this. Did you miss it?”

“No,” gasped Kylo, defiant. Vicrul withdrew and plunged back in sharply, and Kylo’s breath choked out of him. “Ye- _ yes. _ ” The Knight’s fingers tightened on Kylo’s hips, digging in, leaving scarlet marks where he squeezed. “Vic—”

“You don’t get to talk,” he said ruthlessly, bringing one hand down and slapping his backside with a crack that Rey was afraid might echo out into the hallway. “You made us wait. I hope she’s worth it.” Rey could sense his intent: just teasing, although there was something of a vicious streak to him, underlying the surface. Another crack, and Kylo let out a breathy sound, biting on his bottom lip to keep himself quiet. “Good. You  _ can _ learn.”

It didn’t take very long before Vicrul had set up a rhythm, the slap of his thighs against Kylo’s bare, handprint-red ass filling the room. Rey got down on the floor to get a better look at his face, still mushed into the gleaming surface, and he found her, eyes a little unfocused. “Nngh,” he moaned, unable to tear his focus away from her. “R—”

Vicrul reached down and buried a hand in Kylo’s thick hair, tugging sharply, and Kylo choked, let his mouth drop open, and let out a half-muffled wail as his cock, untouched and pointing at the floor, splurted come. “Oh,” she said, delighted as the Force confirmed it: scintillating, exhilaration, warm gold. “You came.”

“Easy,” said Vicrul, sounding almost as if he was proud, and withdrew from Kylo’s ass, his own chest rising and falling heavily— not just with exertion, either, as Rey noticed from the translucent mess gathered at the end of the sheath he wore. “Could have drawn it out a little, but… well.”

“How long until he can go again?” she asked, watching Kylo gasp for air, relaxed, eyes closing. Vicrul bent down and untied him, letting him lie on the floor right in the mess he’d made. 

“About fifteen minutes. We did snatch a pretty decent stimulant from the medbay, if you think it might help.”  _ Snap, snap _ went the buckles on the harness, and off came straps and sheath together as Vicrul stepped over Kylo’s heaving torso. 

“Stimulant?”

“Aphrodisiac, if you like to call it that. It’s distilled nysillin.” He lifted up a small vial, a reddish fluid inside sloshing behind the duraplast of the subdermal injector. 

Rey had never heard that word before. “What will it do?”

Vicrul snorted, a burst of static exploding behind his vocoder. “They really don’t teach you anything on Jakku, do they? It’ll get him hard again, that’s for sure. Hair-trigger sensitivity. And more. You’ve never been to Felucia?”

“No,” answered Rey, fascinated.

“Well, if you inhale the stuff— the pollen, I mean, it’ll play havoc with your nervous system and sensory cortexes and heart rate. You’ll be begging for it, and you’ll sure come, but you won’t get any satisfaction until it’s worked its way out of you either by fucking or by sweating it out. Fucking’s faster. And I don’t mean getting fucked, I mean fucking. He’ll need to have his cock inside something to get any relief at all, otherwise he’ll be driven crazy.

“It won’t hurt him?”

“No. Might work that stubborn streak out of him, though. What do you think, Kylo?” There was nothing but a low moan from the floor, and Rey watched Kylo struggle to his hands and knees, eyeing up Vicrul with a look she thought she liked. “Oh, wait. Forgot you’re not allowed to talk. I’ll let your Jedi decide for you, then.”

Kylo’s lower lip trembled as his eyes almost rolled back in his head, the Force coiling and shuddering around him. “I say yes,” Rey told Vicrul, heat pooling between her thighs. The resulting sound that ripped from Kylo was enough to make her worry she might seep through her clothes: dark and desperate. “I want to see that.”

“I’m sure you do,” Vicrul said, and jabbed the injector right into the meat of Kylo’s thigh. Kylo let out a yelp and squirmed, flinching away, but Vicrul stepped toward Rey with the air of someone whose job was done. “Now we wait. Two minutes, tops.”

Cardo emerged from the shadows, his boots thumping steadily on the floor as he advanced. Rey watched intently as he ignored Kylo, who was steadily growing very flushed, his breath coming in short little pants. His dick, at full mast again, was twitching slightly: leaking fluid from the tip, his balls swollen beneath. “I’ll be sweet,” said Cardo softly, and started taking off his clothes, pulling strange objects out of his pockets that Rey didn’t know the names of— apart from the ropes, of course. “This time.”

“Are you going to tie his arms to his legs like Vicrul did?” she asked, curious.

“No,” said Cardo lightly, discarding his heavy coat and leaving him in just an undershirt, pants, boots and helmet. He was already hard, the bulge straining through the fly, and what skin she could see was a warm, medium-range color. Rey wondered what his face looked like, but decided it didn’t matter. “I’m going to truss him up like a bantha. From here to here.” He used one of the items he’d pulled out of his clothes— a long, flexible, slender rod with a strange flap on the end—to trace lines on Kylo’s body: just below the shoulders, across his chest from arm to arm, and then below his chest, arm to arm. “And here.” The leather flap delicately trailed across Kylo’s thigh to flick at his cock, and just that touch had Kylo shaking, mouth open, eyes squeezed shut. “I think he’s feeling it by now. What do you think?”

Rey couldn’t really breathe. She tried to swallow, her mouth dry, as Cardo tied Ben’s upper arms close to his body, hands behind his back, the rope knotted in beautifully artistic twists that looped around his neck and ended in a makeshift leash: no chance of choking, but Kylo’s throat bobbed crazily anyway. He watched Cardo kneel between his calves and take his cock in one hand, laying it firmly along his left thigh, and securing it down with three loops of rope: not tight enough to harm, but certainly enough to hold him there. 

When Cardo’s work was done, he stepped back to survey the picture. “Mm. Kneel.”

Kylo struggled to obey, but the movement of his thigh chafed the ropes at his cock and he hissed. “Cardo—”

The flapped rod lashed out and struck him a blow on the right side of his belly, biting a rosy mark into his skin, and Kylo yelped, shuddering. “I didn’t say you could speak yet. You didn’t hear Vicrul?” Another lightning-fast smack, and the pale skin of his left side flushed scarlet to match the right. “Are you going to be good for me?” The only answer was a guttural groan. Cardo turned to Rey. “Is he going to behave?” he asked, humor in his tone. “I can use this crop all day.”

“He’d better,” said Rey, inspired. “Or he won’t get to put that cock into me.”

Kylo’s hips jerked, his belly spasming, and Cardo must have sensed his impending orgasm, because he brought the crop down fast and hard, right onto Kylo’s left nipple and effectively ruining his orgasm. “ _ Shit!” _ Kylo barked, eyes squeezed shut, “I  _ need _ —”

“Begging already?” Cardo asked, poking under his chin with the crop and making him look up. “You really have gotten soft. Look at you. You’re about to come just from having a rope tied to your cock. Pathetic.”

Kylo let out a throaty little whine. “Not. Begging. You. I’m  _ not _ .”

“Begging for her pussy, though,” said Cardo very matter of factly, making him turn bright red. “Not that I blame you. She’s pretty. And tough. Maybe I should leave you tied up and take her myself. You could watch. I’ll just leash you to the wall, and—”

Kylo came untouched so hard that drool spilled out of his slack lips and he didn’t actually breathe for a minute. Cardo chuckled, but didn’t bother cleaning him up as Rey inched closer, watching the mess of cum drip down his thigh— and he was still hard, which must be the effects of the drug. “I thought you said you’d be sweet,” she said, grinning as Kylo’s eyes, almost crossed, found hers. 

“This  _ is _ sweet. I’d hate to have you see my mean side,” Cardo said, and undid the fly on his pants. His own cock, slightly smaller than Kylo’s but no less thick, bobbed towards the other man’s mouth, as if seeking where it could go. Pearly fluid dripped from the tip. “See, Vicrul said he’d suck my cock for me, and now I can’t get it out of my head,” he mused. “Want to see how deep he can take me?”

“Yes,” said Rey immediately, and Kylo obediently opened his mouth, choking down Cardo’s cock as the Knight fed it to him inch by inch.  _ Those lips, so beautiful, wrapped so tight... _ it was more obscene than she could have ever dreamed, his cheeks hollowed as he tried to suck, tried to do it all with his hands behind his back. “Holy R’iia,” she mumbled. 

It wasn’t very long at all before Cardo let out a grunt and pulled Kylo away from his cock by the makeshift lead tied to his throat, spilling pearly-white fluid all over his face as Kylo coughed, gagging, and tried to suck the drool back into his mouth, lips swollen and open.  _ Force take me, _ thought Rey, trying to surreptitiously hump the floor as she watched it. 

_ I should have marked him, too, _ came a quiet thought from Vicrul in the shadows. 

“I forgot how well you use that mouth,” said Cardo softly. “Kark me. Who’s next, Rey?”

“I am,” said a voice right by her head, making her jump a foot. Kuruk had slid up so silently in his soft-soled shoes that nobody had noticed him, not even Kylo. He tugged a length of narrow black cloth out of his pocket and advanced, squatting by Kylo and blindfolding him— all Rey could see were his nose and mouth, both red-tinted and damp. “You know my games, don’t you, Kylo?”

“Kuruk,” croaked Kylo, and twitched as a vibro-blade sheared through the ropes, uncomfortably close to his weeping and still-hard cock. 

“You don’t get to beg now, Commander,” said the Knight softly, taking a— Rey couldn’t be sure, but it looked like a toy: something with a round black sphere in the center of two black leather straps. “Your mouth ought to take a break after that, don’t you think? Cardo’s not a small man.”

“Ungh,” groaned Kylo, and that was all he got out before the ball went between his lips and the straps tied behind his head, Kuruk’s hands making short work of securing it there. He rested, chest heaving, breathing through his nose— both blind and silenced, saliva leaking from his swollen lips. 

“Should have brought earplugs. He makes great noises when he can’t hear himself,” Kuruk said quietly as Cardo tucked himself away and retreated. 

Rey could barely hear him herself, so overpowering was the anticipation and arousal pouring out of the dark corners, off Kuruk, off Kylo himself. She forgot everything but her own need and lay down flat on the floor, her hands beneath her, grinding out her own arousal as Kuruk blatantly ignored her little cries and grunts and Kylo snapped his head around, seeking her out like a hunting animal. 

The Force poured into her.  _ Rey. Rey. Please. Come. I need to feel it, I need— _

She climaxed, warm and euphoric and safe, and Kylo let out a thin, high wail as he felt it and came all over himself again while Kuruk was binding his wrists to his ankles, behind his back, flattening him out on the floor. His hair spread out on the shining surface like a halo. “Hair-trigger,” said Kuruk quietly, looking over at Rey as she drew herself up on all fours, panting. “Hmm. I’ll bet he starts begging by the time Ushar has him. He makes him beg every time.”

“Nn-nn,” grunted Kylo, shaking his head stubbornly.

Rey giggled. “What were you saying about earplugs?”

_ “Nnnnn,” _ Kylo moaned, shaking his head as Kuruk hauled him to his belly, lying him flat on the floor with his cock trapped beneath him and his wrists bound to his ankles, feet in the air, helpless and at the Knight’s mercy.

“As fun as that would be…” Kuruk trailed off and stepped silently to one side, watching as Kylo turned his head, trying to find out where he was. He raised a finger to the vocoder of his helmet and Rey understood: don’t give him away, let him play his game. Once Kylo was focused on where he was sure Kuruk was standing, the Knight stepped off to another point in absolute silence and pulled a flexible, light metal rod sort of of the kind Cardo had used out of his robes, flicking it on and making it glow a faint scarlet. Rey frowned— that was different, was it heat? She didn’t know, and she didn’t dare ask, because Kuruk darted forward and lashed Kylo just at the small of his back with the item, springing back as Kylo let out a shriek through his nose and twitched wildly. “Mild electric charge. Gets your attention. Some people like the sensation.”

“I want to know. Hit me.” Rey held her arm out, and Kuruk inclined his head before smacking her lightly with the item. She gasped aloud, instinctively drawing her arm back— it was almost like touching a mild, live circuit, her nerves singing aloud with a sensation that verged on pain, as if her arm had been plunged into hot water and instantly removed. Her skin tingled. “Oh,” she said, delighted. “Hit him again.”

Kuruk circled Kylo, who was tense, waiting for the next blow, his breath coming heavy through his nose. One moment, small and tender, of relaxation, one breath that came a little lighter, and Kuruk smacked him across the back of his shoulder. He yelled and struggled, startled, but his hips twitched fiercely, and Kuruk saw it: the Knight immediately rolled him to his side, leaving his left arm stuck under his side and his cock touching nothing. “None of that,” he said darkly, trailing the rod up the scar on Kylo’s chest and watching him squirm and shriek unintelligibly. “No fun there till you start begging.”

The next touch of the rod was on Kylo’s inner thigh, and he wailed again, high and thin as he shuddered, but he didn’t come. This went on for some time, the rod slashing down to sting and buzz and bite, and Rey watched as the tip of the rod, swinging a red line through the air, came closer and closer to Kylo’s cock, and she thought  _ if he touches him there he’s going to come— _

The lightest touch, the most delicate, kiss brushed against Kylo’s swollen balls, drawn up heavy and tight between his legs. 

Kylo screamed through his nose as his orgasm ripped through him. It splattered his belly, his hip, the floor: and still his erection didn’t flag. If anything, it looked even worse: painfully hard, turning red at the tip.  _ “Nnngh! Mm-mm—” _

“I think,” said Kuruk very softly, circling him again, “you should be the one to fuck him at the end. When he begs. When we’re all done. Won’t that be something to see?”

“Do you think he can hold off that long?” Rey asked, her voice slightly strained from want. She could sense Kylo’s desperation for relief, real relief, a thing that clawed at her mind, red-hot and shrieking. 

“He can put up with a lot. Maybe we’ll put Ushar last, just to be sure.”

“Kark you,” came a low, disgruntled voice from the shadows.

Kuruk was grinning: she could sense it inside the helmet. “Trudgen can be next. Right now…” He rolled Kylo back and pushed his thighs apart, almost folding the man in half— which wasn’t an easy feat, Rey was sure, because Kylo was heavy and solid as stone— until his knees were by his shoulders and his elbows were bent and tucked in, wrists and ankles still tethered together. “I want my turn,” he said softly, and gathered up the slick, cooling mess on Kylo’s body with one gloved hand and working his pants open with the other. The gloved fingers opened Kylo between his thighs and he squirmed and moaned through his nose as Rey felt pleasure flood him, not pain: Kuruk was gentle when he wanted to be. “Good,” he whispered. “Relax. Maybe you’ll get to come again.”

“Mmm— ngh,” said Kylo insistently, and let out a whimper as Kuruk’s heavy cock slid into his body, all the way to the hilt. “Nnnnn—”

“Easy. She’s watching, you know. This is how you’ll learn.” A careful thrust of the hips, and Kylo was shaking, keening somewhere in his throat. “You think he likes that, Rey?”

“Yes,” Rey said quickly, listening to the bright-golden, bee-humming frantic need permeating the Force all around them. 

“That’s because,” Kuruk said patiently, thrusting again, “I’m being careful. Isn’t that right, Kylo?” His only answer was a garbled, throaty hum. “Now. Sometimes people like it careful. Sometimes they like it rougher. You think I should be rougher, Rey?”

“A little,” said Rey, leaning on her elbow. “Maybe faster.” Her cunt clenched around nothing in sympathy as Kuruk picked up the pace, holding up Kylo’s hips, and Kylo let out a cry again, shaking with every thrust. “Keep doing that. I think he might—”

Kuruk let out a breath, and Kylo wailed high and thin through his nose as his untouched cock spilled yet again, all over his belly, twitching. “Damn,” Kuruk said, half to himself as he withdrew, leaving his own come added to the squelching mess between Kylo’s legs. “If I was blindfolded I’d think you were Hux, you’re so tight.”

An outraged growl made Rey grin, and Kuruk smacked Kylo’s knee. “I’m joking, you nerf-herder. That man had an even bigger stick up his ass than you. Obviously none of us touched him.”

“It’s my turn,” said a voice, and Rey looked up: there was Trudgen, his heavy hood and skull-like mask making him look more formidable than Kuruk. “Get all that off him.”

“Give me a second,” Kuruk mumbled, and untied the cords, took the gag off, pulled away the blindfold. Kylo squinted, coughing, into the light: his eyes were red and wet. Chapped lips, too: the marks on his body still red and tender. “There. All yours.”

Trudgen said nothing, just stood and looked at Kylo for a minute. Rey sat back on her haunches, wondering what he was going to do. A pair of bleary, half-blind eyes blinked and found her, then Trudgen. “H-have to,” Kylo ground out, and grabbed his cock in one hand, frantically pumping at himself. The squelching sounds of it filled the room. Trudgen made no move to stop him, instead squatting and watching him, and Rey watched, too. “Aah—huh—”

“Go ahead,” said Trudgen quietly, his voice a soft buzz. “Come. You won’t get any relief.”

Kylo spilled, soiling his hand and his belly again, and his chest heaved as he let out a snarl of frustration, then slammed his hand down on the floor. “It  _ hurts, _ ” he wailed, his hand going at himself again and his legs locked down straight, shaking as he had another climax: this one was weak and pale, Rey could feel, sucked dry of relief and pleasure. “I have to, have to, _plea_ —” He bit off his words and shook his head like a stunned animal. “No. Won’t. I won’t.”

“So close,” murmured Trudgen. “I could kiss it better. I could put your cock into me.” He inched forward, his robes heavily scraping on the floor, and Kylo curled onto his side, watching and panting for air. “You want that? It could be all over.”

“T-tell me,” Kylo forced out, his hands between his legs again even though the pursuit was pointless. “Tell me.”

“I could get myself nice and ready for you. You know I could. And then, I’d sit right down on your cock. Poor thing.” A black-gloved hand reached out to trace a circle around the almost-purple head, and Kylo moaned aloud. “I’d take all of you, Commander. So deep you might lose it. And you’d come and it would be real. Relief. You could sleep.”

“But if... I wait...” Kylo twisted up, tearing his hands away from his groin, and looked up as Trudgen got up on his knees, looking down into his face. “No. Rey. Need Rey. At the end.” Rey felt heat slide down her belly and puddle between her thighs again, right in the front where she liked to touch herself the most.  _ Need Rey. Need Rey.  _ Her cheeks must be on fire: they felt as warm as a sun.

“He won’t make it,” said Ap’lek, slipping out of the shadows. Greed and desire emanated from him in the Force. “He’ll break. Look at him. Practically begging already and he’s only halfway through. I think the dosage was too high.”

“Wait your turn,” growled Trudgen, still focused on Kylo. “He’ll make it.”

“I’ve had worse,” Kylo snapped, suddenly all bristling defiance.

“Yeah, that time we ran into that freaky tentacle monster was—”

“Shut up and  _ do _ something,” Kylo panted, the admonition to not speak forgotten. Rey could sense his feelings, his emotions: a desperate, almost feral need to be touched, to get relief; his skin prickling with oversensitivity, his cock aching for it no matter how many orgasms he got. He was thinking about her cunt, about how smooth and close and hot and wet she would be when he was done, how he was probably going to shame himself and come instantly when she finally took him. The thought was enough to almost send her over the edge herself, but she staved it off.

“So no to my ass, huh?” Trudgen sounded like he was smiling. “All right. But I’m still going to use my mouth.”

_ He’ll need to take his helmet off for that, _ Rey thought, and Trudgen must have sensed her thoughts, because he nodded toward her slightly before disrobing piece by piece. Interested, she let her eyes flicker over the man: he had a solid, muscular build that became more and more obvious with every piece he lost. Pale skin, almost delicate-looking, like the sun hadn’t touched it in a long time: his hands were broad and expressive, and once he’d stripped down to only his basics and his boots, those hands lifted up the heavy hood and skeletal mask, setting it down on the floor.

_ Handsome, _ thought Rey in surprise. High cheekbones, a full mouth, a strong jaw and chin, and warm blue eyes: his hair was dark and mussed from the helmet.  _ Not the face I thought would be under that mask.  _ Although she’d had that thought before, hadn’t she? There was a scar trailing down the side of his neck, ropy and thick, marring the skin there, and he had other scars on his back and sides, crossing his skin in a patchwork.  _ Dangerous man, _ whispered her subconscious, and she paid very close attention as Kylo looked up into Trudgen’s face. 

“Give me the rest of them,” he panted, his hands resting on his belly and shaking like they couldn’t decide whether to move up or down. “All of them. At once. I’ll— get it over with. I can take it.”

“Greedy,” said Trudgen, and Rey thought his unmodulated voice was actually pretty gentle. “I want you to myself first. Then we’ll bring in Ap’lek and Ushar.”

“Fine,” spat Kylo, rigid as a viol string. “Fine,  _ fine _ —”

Trudgen’s mouth came down on Kylo’s, and Kylo stiffened beneath him, shuddering, but relaxing into it as the other man’s tongue slipped between their mouths and along his bottom lip. “Easy, there,” he murmured. “Open up. It’s all right. Remember, I promised I'd teach you.”

“Close,” Kylo groaned, his hands gripping Trudgen’s hips and dragging him down to crush against his cock. “Oh—ah, uh,  _ fuck m— kriffing hell _ I’m so c-close, I, I—”

“I know,” whispered Trudgen, working one hand under Kylo’s neck and the other down between their bodies. “It won’t make it better. You don’t have to beg. You still want it?”

_ “Yes,” _ sobbed Kylo, and Trudgen worked at him with his hand. Rey’s mouth fell open in tandem with Kylo’s, his climax gliding over her through the Force again as he spilled come everywhere and began to cry in frustration, his cock still aching for relief. “Rey,  _ Rey,  _ I need Rey—”

_ Yes,  _ she almost said, jerking as if she’d been asleep.  _ Yes, I’m here.  _

But the other two were coming, sliding out of the corners of the room, and Trudgen was doing something with his mouth on Kylo’s chest, on his nipples, that made the Commander of the First Order squeal like a girl and twist around on the floor— and come again, crying out. “He’s too close. Look at him. Even a touch makes him come. He won’t make it.”

“I can  _ make it, _ ” roared Kylo, toes pointed and curled as Ap’lek knelt by his head and seized a fistful of his hair. “Aaah—” Ushar watched as all three of them and Rey were treated to watching his untouched cock shoot off yet another massive load of come. He was smeared in the stuff by now, sticky and half-drying, his hair spiked with it. “I can. Make it,” he repeated feebly, eyes fluttering shut. He was close to exhaustion, Rey could feel it.

“What was, that, fifteen? We’ll see,” said Ushar. “Ap’lek. Go get the bar. I don’t want him touching himself anymore. Cheater.”

The bar turned out to be a piece of solid durasteel about a meter long, with four circular mag-cuffs attached: Rey sensed it was ordinarily used for solitary confinement or maybe torture, but once Kylo’s ankles and wrists were locked into it, he had no choice but to be permanently bent over, legs spread wide, wrists trapped. He groaned wordlessly as Ushar and Trudgen rolled him over to his back, exposing his ass to the air. “Which one of you wants the first go at his ass?”

“Me,” said Ap’lek, undoing only enough clothing to allow for his cock to jut out, thick and blunt. “Trudgen can wait. Fucking exhibitionist.”

Trudgen grinned. “You’re welcome for warming him up for you.”

“Keep him still,” grunted Ap’lek, and Trudgen sat by Kylo’s head, tracing gentle lines across his throat and cheeks to make him relax as the other Knight worked his ass back open. “A year and a half. I missed this. Force. He used to have us string him up and beat the hell out of him first. You remember that?”

“I remember… how much... you liked it,” croaked Kylo from the ground. 

Ap’lek laughed. “Shut up. We all have our kinks.” He sank his cock in, and Kylo’s mouth dropped open, a guttural groan emerging as the other man began to fuck him in earnest. “I hope you can’t walk after this. Have to sit on that fucking throne with your Jedi all day. Waddling around—  _ fuck _ —bowlegged—” Kylo let out a wail and came yet again, tears streaking the sides of his face as semen dripped down the sides of his belly, and Ap’lek choked. “Tighter,  _ fuck _ , come again, come  _ again _ you fucking—” His gloved hand flashed out and squeezed Kylo’s swollen, heavy balls, and Kylo wailed unintelligibly and spouted even more come, half of it hitting his face, shaking as Ap’lek drove deep into his ass and groaned aloud, his rhythmn stuttering into stillness. “Good. Mm.” He withdrew, leaving a dripping mess, and ran his gloved thumb around the sensitive head of Kylo’s cock, still oozing come. Kylo keened and jerked, shuddering. “You’re keyed up to a hundred, Commander. You gonna come just like this?” 

The only response he got was a hoarse wail, and immediately after that, a weak spurt of come. “I’m shocked his balls can keep up,” said Ushar, watching from his head. “Look at that. Sithspit. I’m hard just looking at him.”

Trudgen moved and settled himself by the bar, his mouth pressing little kisses all the way down Kylo’s thighs and to the dark thatch of come-spiked hair between his legs. “So mean,” he whispered, and Rey could sense the warm puff of air as if it was against her own cunt.  _ The Force is so strong here, now. We’re almost the same person. _ “You want me to suck you off?”

Kylo, too far gone for words, nodded, one eye glued shut from dried come. Trudgen bent his head and swallowed his cock down in one smooth movement, his throat working, and Rey felt a jolt run through her body as Kylo shook for a moment, his chapped lips parted, and then weak release as he came down Trudgen’s throat. “Oh,” she whispered, shivering, and Ushar turned to glance at her as Trudgen pulled away, wiping his mouth.

“She feels it,” said Ap’lek quietly, and he was right: she could feel the distant buzz of the aphrodisiac, humming through her body, ramping up her senses— though likely not as strongly as Kylo could. “Jedi. Lie down.”

Heart pounding, Rey lay down on the floor, right where Kylo could see her if he turned his head.  _ Touch me, _ she thought dizzily.  _ Someone touch me. Someone. I need— _

Trudgen looked up. “I’ll take her. I’ll show him how. If that’s what she—”

“Yes. Please. Take— show him how to do it.” Rey felt like her clothes were going to scrape her skin off. Those warm blue eyes were gazing at her and at Kylo and she thought:  _ we’re in good hands.  _

“Don’t do anything,” he said, and gently started undressing her, and she let him do it, Kylo moaning as he stared hungrily with his one open eye. Even Ushar’s hand on his throat, cutting off the blood and making him lightheaded, couldn’t tear his attention away— and as her breasts came free of the binding she wore under her clothes, he came again weakly, a sleepy little cry escaping his lips. “Pretty tits,” said Trudgen, brushing the undersides with the back of his knuckles. Rey shivered: it felt nice. “He said nobody’s ever been good to you. We heard he’d offered to whore us out to you, just for a decent roll in the sheets. He thought you didn’t want him.”

Rey swallowed hard. Her throat felt dry as a bone, and her body was humming with arousal and dark, heavy need. “I want him,” she whispered as Trudgen tugged off the rest of her clothes, leaving her bare on the floor. Ushar and Ap’lek had switched positions: Ushar was gripping the bar that locked Kylo’s hands and feet into place with one hand and using his other hand to rub their dicks together, and Ap’lek was almost sitting on Kylo’s face, his cock crammed down into the man’s throat. As she watched, sensing Kylo’s delirious loss of oxygen, Ushar let go of the bar, pulled something out of his coat, and slipped something thick and flared into Kylo’s ass. 

Ap’lek groaned as Kylo convulsed, and it must have sent him over the edge again, because he pulled away from the Commander’s face, panting heavily, and sat down flat on the floor to recover. “Damn me,” he muttered. “Didn’t think I could...what did you—”

“Vibra-plug,” said Ushar shortly, and Rey moaned aloud in tandem with Kylo:  _ she _ could feel the vibrations buzzing through her own ass, like the faintest ghost of a presence. Even stranger, she could feel...  _ pleasure _ from it rocketing through her pelvis, even though she knew human females didn’t have any such organ in their bodies— she could feel  _ his.  _ Kylo was drooling, groaning, unable to speak at all, and Ushar reached down and moved the plug, pressing even harder against the  _ thing _ inside that was and wasn’t there all at once—

Rey shrieked and came just as Kylo did, her toes curling with the force of it, and Trudgen lay down along her back, rolling her to face Kylo and reaching down gently between her naked legs. “How did you like that?” he asked, rubbing little circles into her thighs. “Felt good?”

“Oh, R’iia’s arse,” Rey gasped, trying to figure out how to breathe. Kylo’s cock was so swollen— and she could feel it: aching like fire, no relief in sight, sticky with drying come— and thick and she wanted it, wanted it up inside her, even if he only lasted a second. “Kylo. I need— I—”

He let out a wordless sound and turned his head, finding her. The singular, whiskey-colored eye that wasn't stuck shut gleamed in a reddened and swollen setting, tears streaming down his face, and she barely noticed what Ushar was doing between his legs: Trudgen’s fingers were stroking gently at the front of her body, right where it felt the best, and Kylo was watching. “Here,” said Trudgen, parting her slick flesh with two fingers and exposing the sensitive, swollen nub at the top. “That’s what you want to touch. Sometimes not directly. Everyone’s different. Once, I was with someone who wanted their pressure all to the left, not directly on— well, you understand.”

Kylo gurgled, watching. “I want to come,” Rey whispered. “I want him to watch me come.”

“You want me to put my fingers in you?” Trudgen said softly, and Kylo let out a low, desperate keen. She could sense his thoughts, or the general shape of them: he wanted very much to see her cunt stretched out around Trudgen’s fingers, or even his cock. 

_ But what do I want? _

“I want Kylo’s fingers and, and his cock to be in me. But after… maybe. Later.”

“As you wish,” Trudgen murmured, and pressed his mouth to her ear, her neck, her throat, her cheek: his fingers were toying with her clit, and he very much knew what he was doing with it: he listened to her body’s responses and talked Kylo through it, while the Supreme Commander, covered in his own come, listened like a man in a fever between short, sucking orgasms. Ushar was doing something else to his ass. “Look. You see how she goes stiff and her mouth opens like that when I touch her just here? You have to watch and listen for her little responses. Subtle responses. You can’t expect everyone to be free with their own feelings at first. And you don’t want to press too hard, because that can hurt. Now, see how she’s trembling? She’s close. You don’t want to speed anything up when she’s almost there, because that can ruin it. You just keep doing the same thing, and then—” Rey wailed, convulsing in his arms, and her empty body clutched down on nothing as sparks glittered behind her eyes.  _ Fuck, fuck, fuck! _ Kylo made a needy little sound, and Trudgen dipped a finger between her legs, reaching over. “Taste her,” he whispered, and Kylo’s tongue lapped out, greedily sucking at the dampness on his finger. Rey whimpered, thinking about that thick tongue and plush lips between her thighs, licking her open. 

_ Sit on my face, _ came the plea, loud and clear from Kylo’s mind to hers. She crawled to her knees and flung her leg over his head, and his mouth fastened on hers with a sloppy greed she’d never felt from him before. “Ah!” she cried, planting her hands on the floor as he licked her from core to clit, working feverishly at her body, sensing her rapid ascension back to a climax. “Kylo— Kylo, it, it, I—”

“Keep the rhythm,” Trudgen whispered, coming to kneel in front of her. “Follow it through. He can sense what you feel, you know that.”

“Oh,  _ Force, _ ” Rey sobbed, and gripped Trudgen by the shoulders, trying to keep her balance. “I n-need, I—”

He kissed her, gentle and warm and full, and Kylo moaned beneath her, and she  _ came: _ came all over Kylo’s face, shook apart into Trudgen’s arms. Behind her, Ushar’s big hand splayed out against her back, keeping her from collapsing backward onto the bar. Trudgen lifted Rey up so she didn’t suffocate Kylo beneath her, and as she flopped off him, she saw Kylo turn his head, following her, straining to reach her, face shiny and wet with her. “Rey,” he croaked, sobbing for air, and that was when Ushar reached back again and did something to the vibro-plug that made them both wail, the bond between them singing, reverberating. 

Rey trembled, crying out again as Trudgen supported her, and Kylo finally _snapped_ : there was no other word for it. With a roar, he lunged up, knocking Ushar almost flat on his back as the Force coiled and strained and snapped the durasteel links keeping the cuffs held to the bar, then the latches holding the cuffs around his ankles. “Sithspit,” said Ap’lek, watching from a safe distance as Ushar cursed and got to his knees. Someone was barely suppressing laughter at Ushar's plight, but Rey couldn’t tell who it was: her whole mind was on fire with desperation. Kylo was crawling toward her, eyes streaming, and she had barely registered his face before he’d crashed into her, knocking her out of Trudgen’s arms and pinning her flat on her back on the floor. 

_ Yes! _ Her body and mind screamed for it, and she didn’t know if it was her own emotions or his: the sense of victory, amethyst-tinged and triumphant. Kylo reeked of semen and sweat, and his hands fumbled for her, his cock already rubbing against her body as if he couldn’t stop it. “Please, please,  _ please, _ ” he forced out, trembling, “need, just  _ need _ , just one—”

“You broke his fuckin’ brain,” said Cardo, hurrying out of the shadows. Rey couldn’t budge Kylo off her, not when he was frantically rutting against her belly like an animal. “Hey. Kylo.  _ Kylo, _ stop a second, let her—”

_ “No,” _ snarled Kylo, guarding her under him with one arm and shielding her from the hands that reached out. Rey reached down between their bodies, taking advantage of his momentary lapse, and got him notched exactly where he needed to be. The snarl died into a whimper, his face shuddering as he felt the heat of her, the slick slip of his flesh on hers.

_ Oh, R’iia save me, he’s too big.  _ “Kylo—”

He thrust in, and even though there was barely any resistance, she still cried out: he felt as if he was splitting her to her limit, wide open, her legs shaking as she tried to fit him in. “R-Rey,” he gasped, his eyes fluttering back into his head as he started to pump his hips, and if the Knights had stuck around or decided to leave or had all started dancing the Mon Calamari ballet, Rey wouldn’t have known or cared: it was just him, and her, and nobody else. “Oh, f-f—ah, uh,  _ nnngh  _ ah good, gah— I, I—”

She tried to remember how to talk. “You, _uh_ you can—” 

Kylo buried his face in her shoulder. The hoarse, wild groan that tore out of his throat when he came shook through her body, and she felt the aftershocks through the Force: _finally, finally_ and a great soothing sensation, as if a blanket had been thrown over a fire, quenching it. A ragged and unsteady moan escaped him as he rested deadweight on Rey. 

“You’re too heavy,” Rey told him, patting his back awkwardly: nobody had ever said what to do when you were done having sex. “Um.”

“Uh.” He rolled off, heavy and ungainly, and lay on his side, his cock at a drunken angle, come everywhere. She took him in: red marks all over his skin, dried semen crusted in his hair and on his eyes and face and body, the broken manacles still on his wrists and ankles like jewelry. With a wave of her hand, the Force took them off, and she saw the red marks where they’d been cutting into his skin. He rubbed at the raw spots, his chest heaving for air. “Just us. Could we. Again?” 

“Yes,” Rey whispered, tracing a finger down his scarred chest. “But. We need to clean you up first.”

* * *

The Knights had gone, no doubt to clean themselves up, but Trudgen and Cardo stuck around to make sure Kylo could wobble into the training room shower safely, Rey leading the way. Fortunately, the tile-walled fresher had a bench, so he half-collapsed onto that, exhausted and barely able to hold his head up.  Rey could sense his bone-deep tiredness, but only when she reached out, actively seeking it: the bond was still there, but not as paper-thin. She turned on the hot water and readied a cloth, thanking the two Knights as they left them both alone. 

Kylo’s energy had gone quiet, the frenetic sense of hurry all sapped from him. He sat silently, eyes half shut, as Rey washed him clean— and she liked doing this, too: it felt like salvaging a beautiful piece of equipment from a wreck, cleaning out the grease and sand. “Rey,” he croaked, as she rinsed the last of the mess from his hair, his chest, his legs. 

“Hmm?”

“Was it. Good? Did you—”

“It was very good,” she whispered, stroking his hair out of his face. “Can you stay awake long enough? If you have to sleep—”

“No. It’s fine. I’m not… tired. Just. Drained.” He turned his face and nuzzled into her palm, and she felt her heart thud strangely in her chest. “I’ll dry off and…”

“There’s a set of robes in the locker,” she said. “If you want to go up to… bed.”

“Yes. I’ll change.” Water droplets glistened in his dark hair, like a crown of dew, and then he wiped it down with a towel and the glittering was gone. Rey helped him stand and cross to the locker, where he got changed gingerly as if it hurt to lift and move his legs (which it probably did) and when he was decently clothed again, they set off for the lift together.

* * *

Kylo’s quarters were waiting: cool and calm and untouched. Rey took his hand and led him into the bedroom, letting him crawl up on the bed first as she took off her clothes: he was aching all over, but there was another ache she sensed she might be able to help with— and truth be told, she wanted him, too. “I’m coming,” she told him, shaking off her shirt and climbing up on the bed. 

“I can’t lift my shoulders,” he grunted, and she felt the burn of pain from used muscle through the Force— along with his annoyance. “I—”

“I’ll do it,” she said, and undid the clasp on his pants, tugging them down his thighs. His cock, ready again, but not so flushed, stuck out at a drunken angle: long, heavy, thick. “I thought after you had me, it would make this stop.”

“Not yet. Definitely took the edge off. Maybe another round will, though. Stop it all, I mean.” He still looked feverish, flushed and jumpy, and Rey took his black-gloved hand, lifting it up to cup her breast. “Ah—”

“You like them?”

“I need—” He tugged his hand away, yanked the glove off, and clutched her breast again, thumbing at the nipple. “Warm,” he said, sounding strained. “Oh. You know, you tasted like… the earth, like salt or something when I tasted you down… there. I— it was good.”

Heat rushed her like a flood. “Oh,” she squeaked, blushing. Nobody had ever licked her between her legs, let alone told her she tasted good. 

“I’ll do it again. If you don’t mind. Just, right now, I need—” Kylo tore the other glove off with his teeth and reached between her thighs, feeling how damp she already was: the delicate tissues swollen and slick. “Rey. You need it, too.”

“Yes,” she panted, trembling as he fit himself to her opening. “Let me do it. Let me—”

“Okay, yeah—”

Rey squirmed a little and sat down slowly, bouncing a little to work him back into her. He felt as thick as her wrist, with a massive weight to him that made her mouth go dry: the head of him was slick and damp, and beneath her, Kylo’s face was a tapestry of every human emotion as she worked him in deeper and deeper. “Bit big,” she panted, biting her lip as she finally got herself bottomed out. “Force. Feels like the end of you’s wedged in m-my lungs—”

“Move,” he wheezed, gripping her waist with trembling hands. “Please, Rey, m-move, just—”

She started to awkwardly cant her hips, as if she was riding a happabore, and he groaned somewhere deep in his throat, his eyes flickering over her. It didn’t matter that he was still half-dressed: he was where he belonged and the Force was with them both, singing through the bond again. “You feel it, too,” she whispered, beaming down at him.

“When we’re close. Emotionally. Or. Physically. It opens. It—” Kylo’s throat bobbed, and he moaned, his own hips thrusting up. “I can’t, I can’t, I have to c-come—”

“Do it,” Rey whispered, cuddling down flat to his chest and burying her head in his neck as his hands tightened on her hips, his fingers pressing into her ass. “Do it, come, come however you need to—”

“But—” His hips were already pistoning wildly, his voice gone hoarse. “Ah,  _ fuck _ you should c-come first, first that’s what they s—”

“After,” she insisted, and his rhythm stuttered, broke, and heat spilled inside her, stinging a little as Kylo cried out, soft and broken, into her hair. “There. Better?”

He didn’t answer, just nosed his way to her ear and kissed it, then reached down between their bodies and began to rub softly at her, right where she needed him to. A shudder wracked her as he worked, her body clenching down around his cock. “You can finish. You can come,” he breathed into her hair, warm air spreading down her cheek. “I’m not selfish. Trying not to be. Come. Rey—”

The orgasm hit her suddenly, like being blindsided by a speeder, a hurricane, a gale-force sandstorm. She had thought maybe she’d say his name, tender and passionate, but the only thing that made its way past her lips was a feral roar, half a shriek, as her body tightened  _ everywhere _ and ripples of pleasure shot through her from head to toe. Once it began to subside, she half-collapsed forward, into his waiting arms, gasping for air. Her body felt wrung-out, used, loose and soft. “Ben,” she groaned, trembling. 

His arms tightened, his hand stroking through her loose hair. “I’m here,” he whispered, cradling her. “Shh. I have you. You’re safe.”

It seemed an eternity later when Rey finally peeled herself off him, sweat-sticky and boneless, and collapsed to her side by him. “We should send them a gift,” she mumbled: wasn’t that what people did to express gratitude?

“Mm,” mumbled the Supreme Commander, and rolled to face her, eyes still closed and drowsy, as if she was a sun and he was a light-seeking flower. His arm draped heavily across her bare waist, and she kissed his nose as his grip tightened on her. 

“Are you listening to me?”

“Gift. Knights. Sure.” The worn, limp quality of his voice suggested he would sleep for hours and hours after this, his body wrung out and beaten free of all the tension it had accumulated over the past months. Like an old cloth, Rey thought, closing her own eyes. A carpet. “They like you, y’know.”

Was that her imagination, or was there a tinge of jealousy in his tone? “If they try to keep me out of your bed, there’ll be trouble,” she whispered, and was gratified to sense his barely-suppressed pleasure at her declaration. “But I don’t mind sharing. Sometimes. Not all the time, though.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” he muttered, pulling her closer. “Mmph. Sleep now.”

  
“Okay,” she whispered, and listened to his breathing even out and slow as somewhere the engines of the  _ Specter _ hummed: a heartbeat in the walls of the ship, and a heartbeat at her back, always there, always.


End file.
